Eight Days A Week
by Ghost-of-Jezebel
Summary: Title is from a Beatle's song but that's where the resemblance ends... Hatter has an unusual proclivity and Alice is about to find out.  Missing items of clothing, keeping secrets, general silliness but NOT for teens or kids.
1. Chapter 1

Eight Days a Week, Chapter One

A/N: This is a work of fan fiction and is not intended for profit. All characters unless otherwise noted as OC are owned by SyFy, the estate of Lewis Carroll and/or other corporate entities. That goes for brand names and such, too. This fic also contains adult themes so if that's squicky to you or illegal for you to read, please move along smartly now. Thanks. OH! And this is from a prompt posted Gigglingkat in the new_wonderland community on LJ!

**Monday**

Monday was an accident: sky blue satin and white lace ruffles across the backside, dark blue cursive on the front declaring the day, decorated with little stars and moons. Hatter didn't realize they were mixed in with his laundry until he returned to the apartment he was subletting from a former Suit who missed Wonderland and had returned home posthaste, as soon as he heard that the Queen was dethroned and Jack had declared amnesty for former residents. Putting away his stack of trousers, he had found the panties hanging out of one sleeve, incongruously feminine against the boldly colored corduroy. He almost tossed it to one side before realizing just what he held, catching it at the last moment on his fingertips and bringing it back into his palm. Alice's underpants, he thought with a distinct mental thud of thoughts grinding to a halt and blood racing doubletime through his veins. He had never seen these before, the pastel and frothy bit of lingerie with _Monday_ emblazoned on them. Alice's underthings, as far as he knew, tended towards the cotton variety, solid colors and soft fabrics. The occasional thong she swore was for use with sheer dresses and tight jeans, but other than that they were something she called "boy shorts" and "briefs." Hatter had been mildly interested in the styles of women's underthings here in Alice's world, but not so interested as to pause during their removal to ask for more information and education on the matter. Now, he held a bit of confection in his hand, something that had been against Alice's bare skin, something he had never seen her wear before. _Did she get them to wear for me? Or were they for Jack?_ The latter notion made him want to throw the damned things into the fireplace and laugh as they burned, but the idea that maybe, just maybe, she had bought them with an eye towards showing them off in front of him… He imagined her long, muscular legs—the curve of hip and thigh, the slight swell of her toned belly, the thrust of her breasts, the only thing covering her most intimate spot the scrap of blue fabric in his hand… Hatter released a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, sinking down on the floor. He didn't know why Alice affected him so deeply but he had a good idea. The mere thought of her naked, close, waiting…. The blood moved southward and elicited a very basic response, sending Hatter's fingers scuttling for his fly. The silky fabric, wadded in his right palm, was burning, he thought. It felt as if Alice had just removed them, as if her body were somehow imprinted upon them and he could feel traces of her heat, her need and want. His mind skipped ahead blithely, images of Alice with her eyes closed, lips parted, her breath coming in short gasps as she arched against him.

He heard himself grunt, groan inarticulately but didn't care how loud he was being, paper-thin walls be damned. His fingers wrapped around his length, the silky fabric sliding against his heated skin, making him whimper at the thought of Alice wrapped around him, panting his name… Stroking faster, unable to be patient, he slid further down the wall, legs splayed out before him as he worked his flesh, the tight feeling low in his belly spreading downward, need and want exploding in golden sparks in his chest, in his limbs. He was breathing fast now, his body jerking convulsively as he pleasured himself, shaking and groaning with each stroke. His release was sudden, surprising him, spilling on his fingers, staining the satin of the Monday panties. Blood rushing in his ears, he didn't hear the first knock on the door, nor the second. He drew his legs up, slowly rising to his feet, setting himself to rights as he tried to decide what to do with the underthings, wadded up and sticky in his hand.

"Hatter!"

Reality flooded back, dousing him like an ice storm with shock and embarrassment. He shoved the panties into his trouser pocket and lurched for the front door before Alice could get out her key. "Just a mo'!" He sounded, he knew, shaky and breathless. Maybe, he thought, she'd believe he had taken up jogging or whatever the bloody hell those Oysters in the park did, kitted up in ridiculous skin-tight clothes that made them look like some pervy dancers or something. "Coming!" Wincing at the inadvertent pun, he managed to open the door and zip his trousers at the same time.

"You look red," Alice pronounced, pushing past him and into the apartment. "Are you ready to go?"

"Uh, um, yes. Ready as I'll ever be." The panties pressed damply against his hip, through his pocket. "Just…need some water." He smiled. "Would you like some tea then?"

Alice's brows arched delicately. "You? Drinking water? Are you sure that you're not ill?" She reached to feel his forehead, only to have him stop her with a swat of his fingers against her wrist. "Hatter…"

"I'm fine. I promise. I just…got winded trying to put up laundry before you got here." He smiled and leaned in close, his heart still pounding. "Let's go then, shall we?"

"What about your water?"

"I'll get some at the theatre."

A/N Next chapter is "Tuesday!"


	2. Chapter 2

Eight Days A Week, Chapter Two ("Tuesday")

Disclaimers Apply—I own nothing you recognize here!

A/N Still M/NC-17 rated. If sexual situations and "salty" language are illegal for you to read or bother you in any way, this is not the fic for you. Based on a prompt from Gigglingkat in the new_wonderland lj community…

**Tuesday**

Tuesday was uncomfortable. Alice shifted, trying to be subtle, on the bus seat but she had the feeling that she failed miserably. The teenaged boy across from her smirked and raised a brow, so she favored him with her best "die in a fire" glare and crossed her legs primly. The lime green and hot pink French cut panties were not comfortable at all, she decided, and probably an incredibly dumb thing to wear on a day when she had to teach four classes in a row. "Why the Hell did I buy these things anyway?" she muttered to herself, forgetting about the perv across from her for a moment, at least until she heard him chuckle at her obvious discomfort. "Oh, go kiss a Suit," she snapped, shoving herself to her feet and swinging her large duffle bag so that it whapped the young man squarely in the face as she hurried down the narrow aisle of the bus. She didn't care that she was two stops too early, just that she was no longer sitting and she could at least do _something_ other than wiggle to alleviate the creeping nature of the panties. They were silky, which was a point in their favor, and totally unlike her usual selection of solid-color cotton, sensible undies, but, she thought with a bit of self-derision, she should have at least chosen a pack of panties that were a consistent style so that she didn't have to go through each day as an experiment in cut, color and comfort. Monday hadn't been so bad—where, she wondered, had they gone to? _A sacrifice to the laundry gods, no doubt. Ran off with the single socks and that Nine Inch Nails t-shirt from high school._ Hopping a bit and swinging her hips, she didn't care how silly she looked as she rounded the corner to the school, just that she had suddenly caught a glimpse of a familiar porkpie hat and dark head of hair heading into the double glass doors of her work. "Hatter!"

He paused, frowned, and leaned back out of the doors. "Alice!" He didn't look happy to see her, she thought, her heart lurching a little in her chest as she slowed to a halt. _Calm down. Just because he's not all smiles doesn't mean he's tired of you already. Don't you __**dare**__ mess this up, Alice! _ She forced a smile then and slid past him, into the cool, dark interior of the foyer. "I didn't think you'd be here yet," Hatter said, sounding a bit sheepish as the doors swung slowly closed behind them. "I, uh, wanted to…surprise you!"

Alice paused, mid-stride, and turned to look at him fully in the face. "Surprise me? Why? It's Tuesday…" Her mind raced—was it the anniversary of their return from Wonderland? No, that was just a few weeks ago. Was it her birthday? No, that was much later. Was it _his_ birthday? He'd never told her when his was… She hesitated, then asked, "Hatter, is today, ah, special?"

"Of course it is!" he all but shouted, sounding a bit offended. "It's Tuesday! Tuesdays are always special!" He lunged for her then, taking her into a bear-hug and swinging her around so that she was off her feet. Somewhere, one of the other instructors laughed at the display and Alice gasped his name in surprise. "And as its Tuesday, I propose that we celebrate it in that time-honored Wonderland way…"

"And what way would that be?" she asked, feeling a delicious thrill in her belly, knowing full and well what that particular look in his eye meant.

She shivered as he leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear as his voice, low with a hint of a growl creeping along the edges. "Let me show you." His nimble fingers plucked her duffle bag from her shoulder and tossed it towards the front desk. "How long before your class?"

"Twenty minutes," she breathed, uncaring about their audience. "Hatter…"

"Not ideal but I've done more in less." He twined his fingers with hers and pulled her from the school, not that he had to do much pulling as she tripped along willingly behind him. She caught up to his stride quickly, her shorter legs moving faster than his lanky ones, but she didn't fall behind as he led her down the side street next to the school, then down a narrow alleyway, then… "Here we are," he said, smiling.

"Ling's Chinese Café and Notary Public?" she asked, her fizzy good mood fading a bit. "Hatter…"

"Shhh," he urged, pressing her against the brick wall. "It's…an appetizer, as it were. A sampler before the main course."

"What?"

"Shhhh!" His fingers found the drawstring of her loose yoga pants and fiddled the knot loose. She gasped as he went directly for the center of her heat, hidden in the petaled flesh of her sex. "Oh, praise the good Lady above," he groaned, his fingers skimming over the now-damp satiny material of Tuesday. The wadded up blue panties seemed suddenly heavy in his pocket, making him keenly aware of their presence as he lightly traced the embroidery on the pair Alice wore. He could not decipher the pattern but he knew, in his heart of hearts, that they read _Tuesday_. He caught the narrow ribbon across her hip and tugged sharply, the strong fingers of his right hand snapping it easily with a twist and yank, making Alice gasp again, her eyes wide and caught between fear (at being caught, he wondered, or of him?) and excitement.

"Hatter, we can't do this!" she panted, her eyes sliding closed as she shifted, giving him easier access. She squeaked in surprise as he tugged at her panties again, snapping the other ribbon, effectively tearing them free from her body. She hooked her ankle around his calf and found her arms twining behind his back, holding herself up as he plundered her secrets, drawing forth coos and mewls of pleasure as he worked her silken depths. Alice was dimly aware of passing time but she didn't care, pressing herself into Hatter's touch, parting her lips for his kiss as he leaned in closer, so close there was no more space between them. She felt her climax building quickly, her body shuddering in response as he circled the tiny nubbin at the apex of her thighs with his thumb, his fingers clever and quick within her. She stopped caring about being late for class, about being in an alleyway behind a not-so-great Chinese restaurant, and just let her world narrow down and focus solely on Hatter, on the excitement and painful need building in her veins like bubbles in Champagne.

Hatter bit down on his own groans as he felt Alice quicken around his fingers, the purloined undies in his pocket forgotten, their location forgotten, even the ruse that led them to the alley forgotten. He had gone to the school in the hopes of slipping Monday into her locker and being gone, or at least being innocently in the front of the building, waiting on her with a cup of take-out coffee and a smile, by the time she arrived. He hadn't expected her to come practically skipping around the corner, a new sashay in her walk, looking somewhat confused and annoyed but altogether lovely as she stopped just feet away from him. His back-brain had taken over, kicked into overdrive as he thought of her wearing those frilly blue panties he hid in his pocket, accidentally stolen from the laundry. Now, in the alley behind Ling's Chinese Buffet and Notary Public, all he could think was how potent, how powerful, this feeling would be in Wonderland, how he could have cornered the market on tea if he had a single fraction of a drop of this feeling to sell, but how he never would. He would hoard it for himself, guard it jealously, because Alice was _his_ and no one could have this feeling, not with her or from her or about her, until the day she told him to sod off and never darken her door again, thanks for the cream cakes and goodbye. Alice's sudden, sharp gasp, a cry muffled against his neck, dragged Hatter away from the edge of melancholic lust and plunged him fully back into the present. Alice was here, Alice was now and gods help him, she was Tuesday.

Cheeks still red from the encounter in the alleyway, Alice eased back into the school with just a few minutes to spare before class began. Hatter sauntered behind her at a more leisurely pace, looking as smug as could be, broadcasting to the world just what had happened naught but a few moments ago. Alice couldn't look Chester in the eye as she hurried past the counter and headed for the locker room. "Jake is warming up your class," the older man called. " Shake a leg, Alice!"

Hatter raised a brow at him and Chester shrugged. "Shake a leg?"

"Shake a leg. It's an expression," Chester added, having already run into Hatter's relative inexperience with idioms before. "You gonna hang out while she teaches? You can't be on the floor unless you're in uniform."

"Uh, no…" He smiled thinly and patted his coat pocket. "I just have to leave something in her locker. It's a surprise…" His gaze narrowed and he leaned in, not quite threatening but definitely a promise of a threat in his tone. "No telling her, yeah?"

Alice was disappointed when Hatter was not there after class, but she knew that he had to be at the bar to set up by one p.m. Shrugging out of her uniform top, she reached into her locker for her shirt and paused. "What the Hell…" Monday fell out of the locker, tumbling from the narrow top shelf to land on the floor at her feet. "I could've sworn I'd put those in the laundry yesterday afternoon…" She frowned, grabbing them up and shoving them into her duffle bag after making sure that no one had seen her underthings on the floor. "Bad enough I have to go home commando," she muttered, eyeing the torn, still-damp Tuesday pair hidden at the bottom of her bag, behind a rolled up pair of extra socks and her travel-sized bag of toiletries. _I really should just ditch those. They didn't even fit properly…_ Her fingers brushed the fabric and she stopped. Hatter's touch lingered there, tearing the ribbon, pushing aside the satiny fabric to get to her, to pleasure her in the most illicit way she had ever experienced, leaving her breathless and shaking while he looked calm and cool and collected, righting her clothes and taking her hand to lead her back to the school… Her cheeks burned bright again and she shoved the ruined panties further into the bag. _I'll take care of those when I get home… Maybe I'll chuck them in the chute at the apartment._ She knew, though, as she zipped up her bag, that those torn and ruined underthings were going back in the drawer, hidden in the very back behind the newer pairs, the useful pairs, and would come out when she was alone, when she missed him, when she all but hummed with need for him and he was in Wonderland without her…


	3. Chapter 3

Eight Days A Week chapter Three ("Wednesday")

Disclaimers: Sooooooo not beta'd and I've noticed major flamingo-ups in past chapters so…sorry, y'all! Mea maxima culpa! I own nothing you recognize here. Other people and entities, including SyFy and the estate of Lewis Carroll, among others, do. I make no profit from this work of fan fiction.

**Wednesday**

Wednesday was surprising. Hatter pretended not to notice as Alice tugged on a dress over her pink and white dotted panties and the hot pink bra that didn't quite match. He couldn't see from his vantage point if the front of this pair proclaimed the day of the week but he had a good feeling that they did. They weren't cut seductively, they weren't made of some silky fabric that invited touch. They were plain cotton briefs, what he'd heard Alice refer to as granny panties in the past, usually disdainfully. Hatter, however, found nothing remotely geriatric about them. Not with Alice wearing them. He wasn't sure where Alice had gotten this run of unmentionables from, nor why, but he was vastly pleased by their inspirational nature. The niggling image of her wearing them for Jack or some other, faceless bloke paraded through his thoughts, igniting a spark of jealousy in his breast, but he inhaled and swallowed it down, tamping it out as if it were a camp fire. It was smoldering still, but at least it was not a raging inferno. At least, he thought, he had that going for him. Alice was humming to herself, her off-key tune drawing his attention back to the matter at hand. Rather, the matter that he'd like to take into hand; Alice had successfully (and unfortunately, he thought) covered her knickers and bra with the dress and was turning this way and that in the mirror, frowning at her reflection. He coughed, trying to sound as if he had just come upon the scene and had not been standing there for the better part of ten minutes, watching her dress and primp for their evening out. "Wotcher, Alice."

"Hatter!" She smiled brightly and he felt, for a moment, as if he were standing in full sunlight and not a poorly lit apartment hallway. She smoothed her hands over her hips and did a little turn for him. "It's new but I think I might change into something else and just return this tomorrow. It doesn't feel right."

"What's wrong with it?" He eased into her room, not willing to miss the opportunity to be closer to her in lieu of being polite and waiting to be explicitly invited inside. "It looks lovely. _You_ look lovely." The dress, a dark red shift that came barely to her knees and hugged every single curve she possessed, made Hatter's heart trip into double time. "Are you sure that you want to go meet your friends tonight? We could stay in, order some of that odd food you like…"

"It's not odd. It's sushi. And yes I'm sure! It's Denise's birthday and I promised her I'd be there!" She did another twist-turn-bend combo in front of the mirror and sighed. "I need to change." When Hatter did not move, she raised a brow and pointed to the door. "I need to change," she repeated. He sighed and rolled his eyes, backing from the room with a show of false apology.

"Right, right…be a shame if I saw you naked and all, especially since I'm spending the night!"

She rolled her eyes. "Just give me a few minutes and we can go!"

Hatter held up his hands in mock-surrender and shut the door between them. "You know," he called, "we could just be late…"

"What?" There was a scuffling noise, then the door opened to reveal Alice wearing a black, sleeveless shirt and her underwear, her bra forgotten on the bed. "Denise would kill me."

"I didn't say skip it… I just said be late to it." He did his best to maintain eye contact but failed miserably, his gaze roving southward to the swell of Alice's breasts over the edge of the top, down the short expanse of shiny black fabric to the polkadotted panties. He swallowed audibly. "Denise can be mad, for all I care. Wait…mad-mad or mad angry? I have to ask because you use the words interchangeably, something I find quite irritating and _mmmph!_" Alice's mouth against his silenced him quite effectively. He barely had time to part his lips, slide his fingers to the back of her neck, and she was pulling away. "Just a mo…I'm not done yet!"

"I need to get dressed, Hatter," she laughed, closing the door again. Voice muffled by the wood, she added, "Besides, we can leave early ,you know! Once the shots start coming, it's easy to slip away from birthday parties!"

Hatter sighed gustily and glanced at the clock over the bar once more. Three hours into the evening and countless shots (_What the spade is Jello,_ he wondered, eyeing the brightly colored contents of the tiny cup. It reminded him forcibly of the teas he used to sell and trade, a memory that made him, to borrow a phrase from Alice, twitchy) later, he had the strong feeling that Alice's idea of 'leaving early' was nothing like his idea of leaving early. "Alice," he shouted above the loud, bass-heavy music. "Alice! It's gone eleven!"

"What?" She reached for a bright green shot and hesitated. "How many have I had? Three?"

"Yeah, three." He had no idea but her uncertain expression told him that three was her limit. "Three of 'em. Right down the old hatch."

She frowned. "I don't _feel_ like I've had three…" She drew back from the shots and turned from Hatter, making a beeline for her friend Denise across the dancefloor.

"Blast and damn," Hatter spat, not caring who heard him. He set off after Alice, weaving his way across the floor, pushing aside gyrating dancers and drunk spectators, ignoring the occasional curse and shout in his direction as he exercised little care. Alice had already finished talking to Denise, in as much as one could given the noise level in the club, and was pushing onward through the crowd once more by the time Hatter made it to where she had been. "Where's she off to then?" he shouted, but Denise—birthday hat askew and eyes bleary from all those colorful little drinks, laughed up at him and flung her arms around his neck.

"I _love_ your accent," she exclaimed. "Alice said you're a Wonderian! Where's that mean you're from?"

"Wonderland," he snapped, unhappy that he had lost sight of Alice in the throbbing crowd. He wasn't exactly tall but he could usually see her head through shoulders and necks, but this time she was just plain gone.

"Wonderland? Is that in England?" Denise shouted, following Hatter through the crowd. "I thought it was made up!"  
"I didn't say Wonderland," he replied. "I said West Lothian!" He stood on his toes just in time to see Alice's back (and presumably the rest of her) disappearing through a black and purple painted door with a shiny red sign. "What the…"

"Less crowded," Denise remarked in answer to his unasked question. "Women's room has a line a mile long. Oooooo…burny drinks!" She swerved away from Hatter, leaving him alone on the far edge of the dance floor, as she pursued a flaming cocktail and the bartender who prepared it. Hatter bounced on his toes for a moment, his teeth grinding as he considered options. "One," he muttered, starting forward, "don't make a to-do about it. Even Alice has to have a slash now and then, yeah? And if it's not so crowded… Okay, two…go in and give her what-for. That's the men's room and who knows what sort of perv might be about. Three…" he stopped. "Well, bollocks three. There is no three." Dodging one last drunk, he threw open the door to the men's room and nearly gasped with relief as the noise from the club was quickly muffled. "Alice, what the deuces are you doing in here?"

"Hatter!" She yelped, and a moment later appeared out of the single stall. "You scared me to death! I thought some guy had come in here…"

"I _am_ some guy!" He grabbed her arm and yanked her close. "What if some stranger had come in here, eh?"

"Well, they didn't. And I'm not so tipsy that I can't take care of myself." She smiled slightly and he felt her shoving something into his trouser pocket. "I had to make a wardrobe adjustment," she added, her brows creeping upwards. "Those just weren't working with this skirt."

He blinked, his thoughts grinding to a halt before switching gears. "What's that?"  
She smiled even more broadly. "Guess." She pressed against him, pushing him back against the bathroom door before reaching up and sliding the lock into place. "They can wait," she said firmly. "At least for a bit."

"Alice," he said with a hint of uncertainty, "are you sure…"

"_Very_." She took one of his hands and slid it along her hip, down to her thigh as she raised her leg to hook it around his. "This is pay back for the alley," she said softly, stretching up to nip his neck, just below his chin. He groaned and she sighed into the vibration of it. "Hatter, I'm not drunk. I'm barely tipsy. I know exactly what I'm doing so don't even start to torture yourself about taking advantage of me." Still kissing his throat, she peppered the words with tiny nips and licks, all the while guiding his hand along her thigh, ever higher, until he took control of it on his own.

He felt buzzed even though he had nothing more than a single beer to drink, and that had been at the start of the evening. It was surreal but immediate: Alice's breath against his neck, the smooth feel of her thigh under his work-rough fingers, the sudden heat and damp of her sex as he slipped to the core of her need. She laughed shakily, arching as best she could. "Again?" he asked, his voice thick and somewhat unsteady.

"No," she sighed, sounding not disappointed but relieve. "Not again."

He inhaled sharply as her fingers worked the fastening of his trousers open, tugging at the zipper roughly until he batted her away and unfastened them himself. She tightened her leg around his thigh and grabbed onto his shoulders, silently urging him to lift her a bit, to make things easier. Hatter was not inexperienced but he had never done this standing before, and he felt oddly like this was his first time ever as Alice softly urged him, begged him, to take her, to hurry and just do it before someone other than them came, hurry and make it better, make her… He closed his eyes, turning so that her back was to the door, his body holding her up against it and him. Awkward at first, he pressed into her, hissing pleasured relief as his near-painful arousal sank into her wet heat, the velvety feeling of her sex surrounding him as she laughed her own pleasure against his shoulder. The dulled sounds of the club faded beneath the throb of his pulse as Hatter began to set a rhythm with Alice, her gasping encouragement and grasping fingers set him to breathless desperation within moments. "Come for me," he growled against her ear, surprised at the ferocity in his own voice. She shivered against him, her nails biting into the back of his neck as her booted heel dug into his thigh. "Come for me, Alice!"

"Oh, god," she groaned, the sudden knocking against her back making her strangle on a cry.

"Sod off," Hatter shouted. "Busy here!" Alice grew even more wet around him as he slammed his hand against the door in response to the insistent knocking. "Oi, bugger off!"

"Hatter, I'm close," she gasped, one of her hands working it's way between them, pressing against the center of her need. Hatter felt her fingers against the base of his length and groaned loudly. "Oh, god," she cried, heedless of whoever was on the other side of the door, still knocking.

Hatter grabbed her close as she shuddered and gasped her release, her body deliciously heavy in his arms as his own release came, hot and hard, surprising them both. The knocking on the door sounded again and this time, Hatter slammed his right fist against it, the crack of the wood loud even through the sounds of the club. Alice laughed shakily and slid down, away from Hatter and looked at her skirt. "I think I'm presentable…"

"We're going home." It wasn't a question or suggestion. He wondered at his sudden turn for the possessive and aggressive, but didn't linger on those thoughts as he looked upon Alice. She was mussed, obviously sated, and it would not take a genius to figure out what they'd been up to; the idea of other men in the club seeing her like that made him edgy, angry even. He silently ordered himself to calm down, forcing a smile to his face and offering Alice his arm. "Okay?"

She nodded. "Look, let me get out first, alright? I'll meet you at the cabstand out front. I don't want it to look like we were just… um…"

He nodded, not entirely happy with the idea but accepting it. He stood back as she peeked out the door, then slid out into the club. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the door for a moment as he gathered his senses, his hands absentmindedly smoothing over his own clothes then, making sure he was to rights. He paused as he encountered an odd, soft lump near his hip. "What the…" Nimbly, he plucked a wad of pink spotted fabric from his pocket. Alice's underwear, he realized. She had slipped to the bathroom to remove them! His heart, and then lower regions, throbbed with realization, with the knowledge that she had not only intended to go without but she had taken advantage of the situation in the best possible way. Dangling the panties from his fingertips, he barely managed to stifle a laugh as he saw the legend proclaimed in hot pink stitching: Hump Day.

A/N Wonderian is a term I ganked from a Psyche Company song, "Wonderland".


	4. Chapter 4

Eight Days A Week Chapter Four (Thursday)

Disclaimers Apply

A/N Thanks to everyone who is reading and all those who are commenting! It makes me all shiny and happy (don't tell the other Goths… I'll lose bat points, lol). Anyway, this is still unbeta'd so bear with me. Oh and STILL Rated M/NC-17 so if it's illegal or distasteful to you to read such things, please go elsewhere thanks bye.

Thursday was a gray day. The clouds outside, Alice noticed tiredly, were the same color as the rather disappointing panties in her days-of-the-week pack. Gray, soft and emblazoned with a very plain Times New Roman "Thursday" in black, they did nothing to reignite her lusty thoughts of the night before, or even of earlier that morning. Her shower had gone on for so long while she turned the night before over in her mind that Carol had knocked on the bathroom door, reminding her of the finite hot water supply for the apartment and waiting until Alice sheepishly edged out into the hall, demanding to know what was wrong and was it because of David.

"Why would you think that?" Alice asked after a brief, startled moment in which she thought that, somehow, her mother had developed telepathy.

"You don't take epic-length showers unless you've had a tournament or a fight with a boyfriend. Your next tournament isn't until the end of the month so I thought…"

Alice arched a brow as her mother trailed off. "Don't sound too hopeful there, Mom."

"I'm sorry, Alice, it's just that things aren't adding up with this David character."

Forcing a smile, Alice went to her bedroom and shut the door behind her. "I"ll be back late, Mom."

"Alice…"

"I've got my keys so don't bother waiting up." She jerked her sweater on over her head and listened for her mother's waspish retort. When none came, Alice sighed in a mixture of relief and annoyance. "I'm twenty three," she muttered to herself. "Stop treating me like a kid…" She grabbed her purse and let herself out of her room, heading for the front door at top speed. The apartment was silent, which meant that her mother was sulking. "Bye, Mom!" Nothing. "See you later." Still nothing. "I'll try not to get knocked up while I'm out." There was a sharp gasp as Alice closed and locked the front door on her way out.

She jingled her key ring as she stood just inside the vestibule of Hatter's apartment. He wasn't there, which was a bit of a surprise since he didn't have to work until Friday. The Times lay open on the table, a cup of cold tea beside it, a scattering of crumbs tracing trajectory from the table to the garbage bin by the sink letting her know just what Hatter thought of his morning muffin. Tossing her keys on the piecrust table piled with mail (mostly junk, she noticed idly) and colorful fliers for local bars and shops, Alice made her way to the den and flopped on the sofa. Hatter had left the television on, something she had commented on a few times and to which he always replied, with a shrug, "Noise comforts me, love." After visiting Wonderland, she could understand that. At least seeing where Hatter had lived, it made sense. It was unlike Charlie's wilderness or even the forest of the Jabberwock—Hatter's Wonderland was chaos and color and noise and even in it's most quiet moments, it was adrenaline and caution. It was never just…there. Always moving, she thought, closing her eyes. Might account for Hatter's nervous tics, she added mentally, smiling slightly as she thought of how he would always manage to fidget with his hat, his coat buttons, her hair, their joined fingers. Her brain skidded to a halt and seized on the idea of Hatter's clever fingers, bringing up the memory of their quick, heated encounter in the alley just a few days before, and how they had been hard and fast in her at the bar. She bit her lower lip to keep from sighing aloud before she remembered that she was alone in his apartment, no one to hear or see her as she let her thoughts take a turn for the decidedly carnal. Their first encounter, clumsy fumbling and all, sprang to mind and she hummed with approval at the memory. They had been in a hurry, really, realizing at the same time that they weren't on the run anymore, that they were safe and they were finally together, though the powers that be only knew for how long. It had been late, Alice shushing him as she opened the door to her apartment. Hatter had followed closely, his hands skimming her lower back, her hips. She had shivered and he felt it—she could tell because he grew more aggressive, fingers curving into flesh, squeezing as she shut off the hall light and then the table lamp in the den. He was close behind her, barely a hair's breadth between them as she silently made her way to the bedroom. It was not a question—they simply knew. "My mom…"

"I'd really rather not think about her just now," he had whispered in return, his lips centimeters from the back of her neck, his breath sending sharp, almost painful, frissons of realized desire down her spine. "She's a lovely woman but really doesn't do it for me, Alice."

Laughing soundlessly, she turned in his arms and found herself pressed against him before she could catch her breath. The kiss hurt—it was nothing like the excited but gentle embrace in the den earlier that evening. It was fevered, needy, hard, fast—teeth clicked together, lips pressed and tongues sought; it was, she decided, the best kiss of her life. Hatter's quick and clever fingers found the fastening to her bra through the back of her shirt and worked the undergarment free, tugging it loose like a magic trick. He pulled away for a moment and stared at it, his mouth opening as if to ask a question. She pressed her fingers to his lips and shook her head. "Later," she promised. "Not now."

He nodded and, in a rush of movement, had her on her back, on her bed, in two long steps. She tugged at his shirt only to have him bat her hands away and work the buttons loose himself. "Sorry, love, but it's silk." She could only laugh and lay back, smothering the sound by biting on the pillow nearest her. Before she could regain composure, he was against her once more, hands pushing her shirt up, past her breasts, his hips rocking against hers as she gasped, parting her legs for him. They remaining clothing was shed rapidly, muttered curses and pleas to hurry up, be quiet, oh yes now more there drifting in the darkened room, spinning in Alice's head like fireflies in the grass. Hatter had hesitated then, his hard length pressed at the entrance to her sex. She had seen the trepidation in his expression, the knowledge that, no matter what happened after, the now would stay with them, link them forever, on either side of the Looking Glass. She nodded, a small and jerky movement, staring up at him as he closed his eyes, pressing his body into hers. Their mutual sigh and hiss of joining seemed loud in the otherwise silent room, and Alice finally let her eyes drift close as Hatter's clever fingers tangled in her hair, her legs locking around his hips.

Alice opened her eyes and blinked away the vibrant memory of not so long ago and inhaled sharply. She had not been asleep-not quite-but she had definitely not been entirely present. Her jeans were off, her fingers sank deep into her wet core, body shaking in the aftermath of completion. She felt the blush wash over her cheeks and spread to her scalp as she realized that she had just pleasured herself—quite successfully, at that—in Hatter's apartment while he was out. "Oh, God…what if he comes back?" she said to the empty room, kicking off her sodden panties and grabbing her jeans. She had managed to hop into them as the lock on the door clicked. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!" She jerked her hair back into a ponytail and shoved her damp underwear into her jeans pocket, flinging herself back down on the sofa and smiling at Hatter as he let himself into the apartment. "Hey, hope you don't mind me letting myself in…"

"Alice!" He smiled, sounding genuinely excited, but she caught the flicker of something else in his eyes—guilt, she thought, and the idea of him feeling guilty sent a tiny sliver of icy doubt and fear into her belly. Her desire was rapidly fading as her mind began to spin all sorts of spiderwebs, creating and analyzing reasons for Hatter's flicker of guilt. "How long have you been here?"

"Ah, not long." She had no idea and knew that he had noticed her blush—he was staring, eyes narrowed. "Um, yeah, so I have today off and wanted to see if you were up for that trip to the museum and tea room."

He hesitated, setting a package down on the hall table, then smiled again. "Sure. That'd be…fun. Let me change hats."

Alice relaxed just a bit as he brushed past her—she couldn't face the idea of sex just then, not when she'd been almost caught, not when she'd seen that foreign emotion on Hatter's face. He was back in a moment, the purple bowler had had been wearing exchanged for his usual brown porkpie. "Ready?" she asked, sounding too cheerful by half.

"Ready," he agreed, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he took in Alice's oddly guilt-stricken gaze and her fever-red cheeks. "Alice…"

"Yeah?"

"Want to walk?" he asked after another hesitation.

"Sure," she sighed, looking a bit relieved. "That'd be fine." She followed him out into the corridor, not noticing the scrap of gray fabric on the apartment floor behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

Eight Days A Week Chapter Five ("Friday")

Disclaimers Apply

A/N As always, this is rated M/NC-17 and contains sexual situations and "adult themes" so if this is not something you'd like to read or if it's illegal for you in your area, please go elsewhere kthxbai. I own nothing in here—the characters are originated in some form by Lewis Carroll and in this form by SyFy. Brand names, locations, etc, are owned by their respective owners. No profit is made from this yada yada yada. That said—Thank you SO MUCH for reading and reviewing!

**Friday**

Friday was bright and cheerful. Very bright and cheerful. Hot pink and orange stripes, covered in tiny red kiss-print embroidery, with "Friday" emblazoned across the backside in some misplaced paen to Gothic type script, they were oddly comfortable, but Alice just prayed to whichever god was listening that she wouldn't be in an accident which necessitated paramedics removing her clothes that day. "Alice, aren't you going to eat before you leave?"

"Sorry, Mom! Running late!" She grabbed a piece of toast from the table and a bottle of juice from the fridge. "Staff meeting today then I've got four classes back to back before lunch!" She waved the toast in salute and added, "I'll be home for dinner, though!"

"Not seeing David this evening?"

"Don't sound so hopeful, Mom. He's got to work at the bar tonight. It's his double day." One of the many things that puzzled Carol about Hatter, Alice reminded herself as she headed to work, was the man's willingness to work twelve-plus hour days at the shop he was trying to start, then go work even more hours at the seedy dive bar just down the street from his apartment. "Doesn't he sleep?" she often asked Alice. "Doesn't he do anything for fun other than take you for Chinese food and pizza?" Sighing, Alice trouped onto the bus and took her usual seat, closing her eyes and letting thoughts of Hatter take over, as was her usual wont especially the morning after the evening before. It wasn't a good date, despite it being one of their rare, all-day affairs. The museum had been wonderful and Hatter had been absolutely transfixed, it seemed, by some of the Oyster art. Alice had bought him some books from the gift shop about Artemisia Gentileschi and Reubens, which he proceeded to read while they took the cab to the tea room. She wasn't used to quiet Hatter, not like that. Silences between them were rarely cool and flat; they were dynamic, full of shared knowledge, questions that were too great to be asked, answers too wonderful to speak aloud. They stretched for hours sometimes, both of them lying awake in the dark while the quiet wrapped around them like a blanket, moving over their bare skin like a lover's fingers, but it was never uncomfortable, never glaring and sharp like it had been on Thursday. She had searched his face, his manners, for another flicker of guilt but she only saw a growing chasm, a flicker of the tea shop owner from Wonderland who put on masks and hats, whose madness kept him sane.

"Hey, Hamilton! Watch where you're going!"

Alice blinked, recoiling from the angry voice in front of her. "Oh, shit. Sorry, Don!" She moved sideways around the much larger instructor and wondered silently how she got all the way to work without noticing. Shaking herself mentally, she headed for the locker room only to hear her co-worker behind her.

"You're not meeting your man before class this time?"

"Nooooo…" She hesitated and turned to face him. "Why do you ask?"

"Thought you ought to see something," he replied with an oily smirk. Motioning her closer to the front desk where the receptionist sat before her lap top, Don whispered something and the younger woman glanced at Alice, eyes wide, before nodding and skittering off towards the break room.

"What the Hell is going on?" She narrowed her eyes as Don tapped a few keys on the lap top and rocked back on his heels, obviously pleased with himself.

"Take a peek…"

"Alice!" Hatter launched himself over the shop counter at the sight of the dark-haired woman in the doorway. He couldn't lie: he was thrilled to see her. Even after the uncertainty of the day before, his heart leapt and pounded in his chest at the very sound of her voice. It will all sort out, he kept telling himself, tamping down the gut-gnawing feeling of worry that had been niggling him since finding Alice in his apartment, waiting for him. Something about the way she looked at him, the way she acted, had made him worry the entire day Thursday and now… Well, he decided, the fact she was apparently skipping work just to come see him had to be a good thing, right?"

"We need to talk," she said, not quite meeting his eyes. "Um, is there a back room or something?"

Hatter looked around the shop. "No one's here but us… Not really open yet, you know." He smiled and ran his hands up her arms to her shoulders, squeezing gently but firmly, almost, he decided, a hug. "Soft opening this week, and the grand opening next."

She nodded, gnawing her lower lip gently as she stared down at the silver filigree buttons on his waistcoat. "We need to talk."

"So I've heard…" He heard the slight tremor in his own voice and silently damned himself for it. _This is it_, he thought, _the cream cakes all over again…_

Alice chanced a smile and felt how nervous it looked. _How the Hell can I tell him without absolutely ruining everything? _"It's nothing," she heard herself say and mentally berated herself for it. "I just…I wanted to see you." The incredulous expression that bloomed on Hatter's face made her chatter: "I quit my job today. This morning. Just…well, just half an hour ago, actually. And I don't want to go home yet. My mom wouldn't let it rest; she's got the day off from the library and…" she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "Can we just go sit somewhere for a while?"

Hatter felt a shade shameful for being relieved that Alice was unemployed and not looking so stricken because she was going to break up with him. "That what gives you the long face, love? Come on then!" He looped his arm around her shoulders and led her behind the counter, kicking aside an empty box that once contained smaller boxes and therein smaller boxes—something he found at once amusing and annoying, the sheer amount of packaging Oysters used, as if afraid of the contents of presents and packages. He said as much to Alice, his nervous chatter taking over as he led her towards a small office near the shop's sole restroom. "I mean, I can understand the anticipation being exciting—you know how much I love unwrapping things—but seriously! Ten boxes to secure one tiny little thing… It's not as if it were Mad March's head or somesuch!"

"Hatter!" She tugged him to a stop. "You're chattering."

"And this is new?" He smiled at her and she rolled her eyes, a small smile curving her own lips then. "Listen, I can call in that David bloke—the other David, not me-David…I'm not so mad as to call myself on the phone. Again. Anyway, I can call him to come do inventory and you and I can go back to my place and…talk."

Whatever cheer had been playing at the corners of her expression faded. "That…that would be good." _Maybe I can find my underpants while I'm there. Where the Hell did they go? God I hope they didn't fall out at the museum… No one stopped me but…Oh crap why is he looking at me like that?_ "Something wrong?"

"Not a thing," he lied, feeling the worm gnaw at his guts again. "Gimme a mo to call David and we'll be off."

Hatter kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation all the way back to his apartment, mostly about how David was a good assistant, better than Dormy since the Oyster boy lacked an addiction to tea and stayed awake more than five minutes a go and also because he didn't question Hatter's 'eccentricities' but kept busy organizing the stock and singing off key tunes to himself about a place called Oz. Alice muttered something about yellow brick roads and off Broadway productions but Hatter skimmed over it, moving on to banal topics like the weather and dogs wearing sweaters and the lack of apparel for cats and guinea pigs. "Seriously, what makes people think rodents wouldn't appreciate a nice chapeau?"

Alice flopped down on the sofa with an audible huff. "I really don't know, Hatter. Maybe there's a niche market you can get into with your shop."

"Don't be silly," he snorted. "I don't have time to find a supplier and…oh, well, there's my answer, isn't it?" He sat beside Alice and, tentatively, rested a hand on her knee. "Alice…"

"We need to talk!" she said again, grimacing at her repetitiveness. "See, the thing is—" She was stopped, mid-sentence, by Hatter's sudden, hard kiss. She tried to pull away but he moved with her, pressing harder, his fingers tangling in her rain-damp hair, pulling slightly as he moved against her, holding her to the sofa.

He didn't expect this of himself, he reflected as he closed his eyes and poured himself into the embrace. It was the only way he could think of to stop Alice from saying what came next, from tearing his world apart, from driving him back into the Looking Glass. Alice stiffened under his ministrations, but he kept on, unwilling to free her to speak. After what felt like a small eternity, she relaxed. First, just her fingers, moving to curl into his shoulders. Then went her body, unbending, legs parting slightly against his hips. Finally, she began to kiss him back, parting her lips for him, her tongue darting out to meet his. He sighed, almost a groan really, and opened one eye to see if she was looking back. Her eyes, he noticed, were squeezed closed. "Alice," he breathed, breaking the kiss just enough to speak.

"No. This. Now." She grabbed him then, her hands on either side of his face, pulling him back into the kiss with great desperation. She didn't want to talk about what happened, after all, she decided. She didn't want Hatter to know, because she had a sick feeling in her gut that he would go to the school and that right hand would be just as powerful in her world as it was in Wonderland… Blindly, she pulled at his shirt, the pinging noise of the waistcoat buttons hitting the floor the only sound other than their breathing for several moments. He laughed shakily, batting her hands away with a murmured "Let me" and removed the damaged vest and then his paisley shirt. Alice took a breath, overwhelmed by a silent appreciation of Hatter's nearly naked body, before pulling him back down atop her. She felt nervous and excited all at once, nearly drowning her fear and panic from earlier. She realized, in the space of the single breath it took to bring Hatter's mouth to hers, to bring his hand to her breast and press there, arch into those clever, strong fingers and hook her leg around his thigh, that no one she had been with ever made her feel so scared and so wonderful at once. Not even Jack, whom she thought was The One. Not Jimmy Holliday in tenth grade, not Larry Moody in senior year, or that fling with Clarissa the summer before freshman year of college. She squeezed her eyes closed again, feeling irrational tears sting the corner of her eyes at the idea of living without him in her life in some form or another. His fingers dragged her out of her trip to maudlin-ville, pinching her very erect nipple through her bra and rain-soaked t-shirt. She gasped his name, her eyes flying open to see his own, kohl-rimmed ones smiling down at her.

"Did you still want to talk, dearest?"

"Uh uh. Not now anyway." She arched into his touch, her hand wiggling between them. She felt a thrill of distinctly feminine satisfaction at his sudden intake of breath, the tensing of his stomach muscles as he realized where she was headed. _Later,_ she told herself. _I'll tell him later._

_I'll tell her later,_ he swore silently as Alice's fingers worked the button on his trousers free from it's secure state. He held his breath as she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his unmentionables and almost cried in relief as her fingers closed around his arousal, squeezing gently as she began to stroke him. He shifted just a little, just enough to give her more room, and gasped as her teeth scraped against his nipple, her tongue quickly laving the bite. She pushed against him, rolling them from the sofa onto the floor with a solid, hard thud. Both gasped but neither stopped, Alice quickly pushing his trousers down a bit further, Hatter tangling his fingers in her hair once more, as if he could hold onto her forever if he just made the knots complex enough. He blinked, the lustful fog in his mind clearing for a moment as he realized Alice was no longer straddling him but had scooted down between his knees. "Wotcher, Alice…"

"Don't wanna talk right now," she panted, looking up at him from hooded eyes. Gently disentangling his fingers from her hair, she scooted a bit further down.

Hatter, for the first time in a very long time, was without words. He tried, gods help him he tried, to form one coherent sound—her name, something affirmative, something surprised—but only a thin wheeze came out of his throat. His elbows slid and he found himself laying back as Alice's tongue traced a ticklish, tortuous path along his inner thigh, slowly moving higher towards much more favorable places. He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to do that, but even if he had been able to form the words he didn't think he'd be able to bring himself to make her stop. She had never done this before and, if he were to be honest, _he_ had never had it done. The feeling of Alice's tongue tracing along his nearly painful arousal was almost his undoing. The wheeze became a groan and his head hit the floor with a thump as his elbows finally gave way and his arms slid out from beside him.

Alice's heart was racing what felt like a mile a minute as she took Hatter's length into her mouth. The taste of him against her tongue sent a spike of liquid heat through her belly, pooling there like melted gold, waiting. She felt him shaking as she began to set a rhythm, letting him slip almost entirely from her lips before taking him in again, a bit more each time until finally she could not take him any farther, wrapping her fingers around the base of his shaft and stroking as she used her lips and tongue to making him shiver, make him groan and pant. Almost without realizing it, she let one of her hands slide beneath her own waistband then, her fingers seeking to relieve the thrumming desire in her veins. Hatter hissed something foreign, something in a tongue Alice had never heard before, and tried to sit up. All it took was a slight movement, the threat of her stopping, to make him settle back, though it was obvious from his whimpered groan that he wasn't exactly thrilled about it. She knew what he wanted—to be inside her, to be the one touching her, feeling the wet petals of her sex around his seeking fingers, to be the one making her climax, but she didn't want that just yet. She wanted him as he was, shaking under her touch, his length in her mouth, hard and velvet in need… She increased her ministrations, tasting the salty tang of arousal seeping up, telling her it wouldn't be long now. He finally managed her name and it sounded beautiful and pained as his desire for her bled through his voice. He was moving against her then, his hips flexing as she took him in, her tongue flicking over and around the very tip of his shaft, making him gasp anew. When the final crisis came, it was a surprise to them both, Hatter at once cursing and apologizing and groaning his pleasure, Alice doing her best to keep up. When it was over, he lay gasping on the floor, her head pillowed against his thigh, her fingers idly making lazy circles somewhere near his navel.

"Alice," he began.

"Shh. Don't feel like talking just yet."

"Holy shit, what time is it?"

Hatter blinked himself awake. "Uh…tea time, usually."

"Fuck me, it's dark out! Mom's going to lose her mind… I was supposed to be home for dinner!" She scrambled to her feet, shoving sleep-drunk disorientation away as best she could.

Hatter got to his feet and laid a staying hand on Alice's shoulder. "You never did tell me about this morning…"

She stopped, a stricken, guilty look coming over her face. "Oh…um. Yeah, we need to talk about that," she sighed. She glanced up at him and thought, for a moment, she saw an answering flicker of guilt in Hatter's expression. The knot in her belly reasserted itself—something was wrong, she knew. Hatter was hiding something from her…

He hesitated, looking expectant. When she didn't add anything, he sighed gustily. "Gimme a second or ten and I'll walk you home."

"I'm a black belt, you know."

"An unemployed one!" he called over his shoulder as he headed for the bathroom.

Alice made a face behind his back, bending to put her shoes on as Hatter vanished behind a closed door. She had no idea how her shoes had gotten off, or how she had wound up wearing Hatter's hat, but it was a small matter to set things to rights. _Oh thank God…my panties!_ The gray fabric stuck out from under the corner of the sofa. She didn't spare much thought to how they made it that far from falling out of her pocket, but she shoved them into her bag and popped up just as Hatter re-entered the room. "Ready!" she chirped in false cheer.

"Let me get my keys," he said carefully, already on high alert due to her sudden shift in mood. Alice headed for the door and he reached for his house keys on the coffee table, only to stop short. The gray underwear he had shoved under the sofa were missing. He could tell from his vantage point that she hadn't found the others, also hidden there, but the gray ones… A quick glance at Alice showed her worried expression, her unwillingness to meet his gaze. "Fuck me," he muttered. "I'm done…"


	6. Chapter 6

Eight Days A Week Chapter Six (Saturday)

Disclaimers Apply (not mine, yada yada yada)

A/N This still is rated NC-17/M so be ye warned and if it's illegal or distasteful for you to read smut, please read something else instead. J

**Saturday**

Saturday was startling. Almost nonexistent, really: the fabric was roughly the size of one of those sticky notes Harriet at the shop insisted he use for phone messages, and the print on the front was barely discernable, dark red against black material. The rest of the garment was comprised of dental floss, he decided as Alice turned her back to him and rummaged in her closet for something to wear. Silently, he both blessed and cursed Carol for letting him in on her way out to work and Alice for calling that she'd be out in a minute, just wait in the living room. Hatter felt a bit lightheaded as the blood rushed southward, not even leaving enough on his face to form a proper blush as Alice emerged from her closet and paused before her mirror, turning this way and that, lifting her breasts with her hands and sighing as she let them go. He nearly tripped over his own feet backing up when she headed for the bedroom door; the first available hiding place was the hall bathroom, which he lunged for like a hungry Jabberwocky after a witless Oyster.

"There's some tea on the stove if you don't mind it being lukewarm!" Alice called.

"Oh, um, thanks!" he shouted back from within the bathroom. "I'm good!" The responding silence made him wince—of course Alice would think it odd if he refused tea! "I'll get some when I get out, yeah?"

"Sure," she replied after a long pause. "Um, I'll be out soon."

Hatter mentally cursed himself; it was barely nine in the morning and he'd already made a hash of things, first by showing up so early to talk with her, then by acting odd. Carol had been loathe to leave, he could tell, but had to since it was a work day for her. She had questioned him about his presence there, asking why wasn't _he_ at work, and didn't seem to accept the answer that he just happened to have the day off from both of his jobs and had plans for breakfast with Alice. Alice, thankfully, hadn't disagreed when her mom told her that he was there for their breakfast date. Hatter splashed cold water on his face and forced his thoughts away from Alice's panties (or lack thereof) and back to the more pressing matter of the unnamed little problem that had blossomed over the past few days. i Something's the matter and she won't tell me. Last time this happened I was left high and dry and nearly lost me head thanks to that damned conniving casino girl! /i Taking a deep breath, he shut off the water and eased out into the hallway. Alice's bedroom door was firmly shut, he noticed, feeling a tiny shard of chagrin at that sight. Plodding into the living room, he dropped down onto the sofa with a grunt of resignation and closed his eyes to wait for her.

"Hey!"

"Gah! I mean—hey yourself!" Hatter sat up straight—Alice had surprised him by coming from the kitchen instead of her bedroom. "I thought you were still changing."

She shrugged. "No." Silence fell again as Alice set a mug of re-heated tea in front of him and opened her bottle of juice. They sipped their drinks in silence, neither quite looking at the other, until finally she spoke. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was bothering me so much yesterday but…well, I just didn't want you to get upset."

Carefully, he set his drink down on the coffee table and folded his hands in his lap. He had thought of a million ways she would begin the end but he had nothing prepared. All he could think of to do was beg, and beg hard, but he swallowed that urge down like a bitter pill. Finally, knowing the hurt was writ plain on his face, he looked up at her. "You don't even _look_ upset," he said sharply. Alice blinked in surprise, jerking as if he had physically struck her. "I know I'm not your usual sort but I thought we had…well, I thought…"

"Hatter, stop talking before you say something really dumb."

"No, I'm not going to be on this end of it for once in my life!" He made to stand but Alice was off her chair and in front of him in a heartbeat, pushing him back down by his shoulders. "I've seen how you've looked at me these past few days," he said, anger heating his words. He didn't know, though, if he was angry at her, or at himself for not knowing just what he had done wrong, or how to fix it. It felt as if his blood were turning to sludge as Alice looked down at his upturned face, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed. "I'm not a dumb man, Alice," he finally sighed. "I've been on the receiving end of goodbyes before." Her hands dropped to her sides and she stepped back, her eyes closing as she took several deep breaths. i Here it comes,/i he thought, taking a deep breath then himself and steeling his spine, waiting for the punch.

"Hatter, you're a fucking idiot."

"…what?"

"How could youipossible/i think I'm breaking up with you? After everything we've been through both here and in Wonderland? After…well, after everything, period?"

"You've been acting so weird and—"

"I'm not the one who's acting weird," she spat. "And for you to sit there and get pissy with me and…" She held up a hand and stopped talking. "Okay, let me back up. I'm not breaking up with you, Hatter. I…I really care about you. More than anything."

Hatter blinked, at once relieved and stricken. "You care about me?"

"Very much."

"Do you love me?"

"Hatter!"

"I know we've said the words, poppet, but do you love me? Truly?" He slid to his knees on the floor, shoving his hat off his head and shrugging out of his jacket. "Because I love you. It drives me mad, loving you. I can't stand to think of you being hurt, or upset, or ill, or in any way unhappy." He moved forward, staring up at her startled face. "I can't stand thinking of anyone touching you. Ever. I'm obsessed, I think. I dream of you, I think of you, I know your smell, your taste, how you feel. I want to make you happy, even if that means letting you be happy without me."

"You sounded pretty angry a minute ago when you thought I was breaking things off," she pointed out shakily.

"Wouldn't you be?" he asked, his voice soft as he finally reached her, sitting back on his heels as she sat—somewhat nervously—on the coffee table before him. "I'm not joking when I say I'm mad with it. I've never been so…so…iaddicted/i to anything in my entire life. None of the teas in my shop could make me feel like this and if you feel even a fraction of what I do…" He exhaled. "Alice…I'm making a mess of this."

She shook her head, struck silent by the raw emotion in his voice, on his face. Her mouth opened and closed again as she tried to form words but failed, her heart hammering in her chest. He looked as if he were waiting for her to say something, to do something, but all she could think was how scared she was, how she wanted to flee, but at the same time how she just wanted to sink into him, to drown in his scent, his voice, be tortured by the pleasure his body gave her… And like a cool breeze in August, a new thought came to her: she felt lust for him, but with that was the knowledge that she wanted to wake up with him, she wanted to make mundane decisions with him, fight with him and make up with him, be bored with him, be iboring/i with him. She had never wanted to be boring with Jack, she mused silently. She had never wanted to make mundane decisions with previous lovers. She had never wanted to make up after fights with exes… "Hatter," she said softly, her voice rough, "I do love you. I…I love you very much." As she said them, the words felt less heavy, less like a trap. Hatter didn't tackle her, or smile, he simply nodded. "And I'm not breaking up with you. I…I've been worried that you're bored with me. And want to move on, go back to Wonderland for someone who's not a dull Oyster." The admission made her face feel hot while, at the same time, making her feel a million times lighter. A flicker of guilt in Hatter's eyes made the confession taste like ashes, though, and she began to stand, to move away from him.

"No," he said sharply. "Stay." His stronger right hand clamped around her wrist, securing her in place. She hesitated, pulled against him for a moment, then gave in. "What's wrong, then? Why have you been acting so odd?"

"I..I don't want to talk about it," she said. "But I guess I have to, huh?"

"Might be good," he admitted. He felt as if every nerve ending in his body was on fire; he didn't want to scare her with a whoop of joy at her admission but at the same time, it was all he could do not to tackle her down, push her back on the table and shove her sensible cororouy skirt up over her hips and get rid of those almost-not-there panties and… He paused, realizing she had been talking. "Wait, what?"

"I said I guess I've just been really reading too much into things. I thought you'd been acting odd this week, like you're guilty about something and I thought maybe it was me. Or, actually, you being tired of boring Oyster Alice."

"Oh, love," he sighed, sliding his hands up her calves, his fingers seeking the sensitive skin behind her knees. "I'll never be tired of you."

"But I'm not like Wonderland… Things here aren't as…well, aren't as exciting, are they?"

He cocked his head to one side and fixed her with a confused puppy look. "What do you mean?"

"We're just boring Oysters here… No flying flamingo bikes, no knights, no…well, nothing like that."

"And that's boring to you, not having these things? Do you want to go back to Wonderland?"

"Yes…no…maybe." She shifted as his fingers moved up the back of her thighs. "Hatter, what're you doing?"

"Torturing you. You're still not telling me everything." He leaned against her knees, forcing them slightly apart. "Alice, what's really the matter?" Before she could speak, he added, "Aside from me acting guilty." i That is a conversation for another time, /i he thought with a hint of panic. He was waiting, at least a tiny part of his brain was, for her to mention the panties under his sofa. When she did, he decided, he would admit to everything and let her call him a pervert, a freak, whatever words she wanted, so long as he could still breathe her air.

"It's embarrassing," she sighed, closing her eyes as he pushed her thighs a bit further apart. "But since it involves both of us… Hatter!"

"Keep talking," he ordered, his lips following his fingers up the inside of her thighs, tongue darting out to taste the pale flesh there. She took several shuddering breaths, making his heart leap to life in his chest and a rush of distinctly masculine pride in the effect he was having on her flooding his senses. He pushed her skirt up a bit further, nibbling a particularly ticklish spot as Alice gasped and squirmed, trying to get away from him but failing due to the grip he had on her knees. "Alice," he growled in mock-warning.

"If you want me to be able to talk," she panted, "stop doing that!"

"It's torture," he pointed out, his hands moving ever-higher, pushing her skirt up and up and up. Her thighs were open for him then and he could see the surprising, barely-there undies. Her sex was scarcely covered and, he decided, the underwear made the entire scene more dirty than not…and he was rather happy about that. His heart was still humming with joy that Alice loved him—really loved him—but all he could focus on was the more base aspects of their relationship, namely that Alice was splayed before him like some wanton pagan goddess and he had no blood left in his upper body. "If I stopped doing it, it wouldn't be torture, would it?"

Alice bit her lower lip to keep from commenting, instead closing her eyes and letting her head loll back as his breath tickled her thighs, his fingers dug into her knees and his otherness, his presence, made her heart race a mile a minute. "I thought torture was supposed to hurt," she finally managed. "This doesn't hurt."

He rocked back on his heels and looked up at her. When he spoke, he heard the rough edge to his own voice and delighted in how it made Alice blush: "Want can be more tortuous than pain ever dreamt of being." Her head snapped up at that and her eyes found his, blazing dark with hunger. "Shhhh." His shushing was all the warning she had before he moved forward again, his mouth covering her, tongue pressing the sheer fabric of her underthings against the blossoming folds of her core. She strangled on a gasp as her heels dug into his back, her legs going about him automatically. Hatter didn't think about what he was doing—if he had, he knew, he would have been all but paralyzed with fear and awkward uncertainty. He had never done this before, not even with Alice, and he didn't want to ask if Alice had participated in the act either. A quick, bright vision of Jack, arms twined about Alice as she cried out in pleasure, flared in his mind's eye and sent sour jealousy deep into Hatter's gut, but a tiny voice whispered in his ear i She loves you, you blooming idiot!/i Alice's panting voice, gasping his name, dragged his thoughts away from dark, maddening images and back to her, just her. Her fingers were fluttering, grasping at his hair, his neck, any part of him that she could reach. She alternately pushed at him and pulled him closer, as if she couldn't decide if she wanted more or wanted him to stop. Cries he had never heard before, from her or anyone else, filled the room as he finally pushed aside the thin scrap of fabric and applied himself to her bared sex. The salt-sweet taste of her on his tongue made him groan as he laved deeply, his body throbbing in response to her mewling pleas for more, please god more, yes right there… Withdrawing, gasping for breath himself, he looked up at Alice and froze in wonder as she breathed heavily, half-sitting on the table, her legs around his shoulders, face pink with exertion and sweat shining on her collarbone, her forehead. "Spades and Hearts," he panted, "you're beautiful."

"Hatter," she breathed, "I look like Hell…" Suddenly embarrassed at being splayed wide, remembering she had forgotten to shave her legs that morning, Alice made to sit up only to find herself pushed back once more by Hatter.

"No," he whispered, scooting forward a bit more, "not yet."

Alice nearly choked on the cry rising in her throat as he bent to his task once more. This time he was more delicate, teasing, and yes, tortuous. He nibbled the tight bud of sensitive flesh at the apex of her sex, his fingers finally slipping into her, curving and seeking as she wiggled against him, seeking the best position, the best… "Oh, God," she cried loudly, letting her body fall back, her fingers flying to join his, fumbling for purchase and being batted away as he sucked on that magic little pearl, adding one more finger to the other inside her. Alice couldn't breathe deeply as her body rebelled against her attempts at control, arching and pressing into Hatter's talented tongue and teeth and lips, her sex convulsing around his fingers as she shattered, her crisis point coming like molten gold, making her feel heavy and light at once. It was almost painful then, when Hatter pulled away, his own harsh breath tickling her thigh, then her lower belly, then her breast through her shirt and bra as he moved up her body, pulling her upright and against his chest.

Hatter moved them to the sofa, holding Alice in his lap as she regained composure. "This is nice," he managed, his voice breaking as he replayed over and over images of their encounter. He had never imagined it would be like that, pleasuring a woman—pleasure Alice—that way. He made a note to do it again, often, and preferably soon.

"Huh?" she squeaked, only half-hearing him.

"I don't think you've ever sat in my lap before."

"Oh, God," she groaned, an entirely different tone than before. "Let me up. I'm too heavy." She paused at his incredulous look and added, "No, I'm not saying I'm fat. I'm more muscle than not and muscle is heavy!"

He tightened his grasp about her waist and pressed his face into her neck. "I can keep torturing you, you know, until you tell me what's wrong."

She laughed shakily. "I don't think I can stand any more right now. I—"

"Don't tell me," he pleaded suddenly. "I don't want to know if you have or haven't before."

"Um, okay." She glanced at him and saw, not for the first time, how vulnerable Hatter really was. i This is the first time in his life he hasn't been surrounded by war and chaos,/i she reminded herself. Something in her heart twisted a bit and she felt somehow responsible for what Don had done, for what she was about to tell him. "The thing is…The reason why I was so upset was…" she closed her eyes again, unable to meet his intent gaze. "Okay, first of all, do inot/i think this is your fault…"

Hatter listened as Alice explained to him what had happened, how Don had seen the security footage before it was automatically erased after the twenty four hour span set by the security company. He listened as she told him how Don showed her the footage, and apparently showed the other instructors, too. He listened, a bit less calmly, as she explained how he had suggested she make another tape for him if she wanted to keep her job. He listened with distinctly less calm as she told him how she refused, how she had quit her job and how reporting Don to the owner of the school wouldn't work because he iwas/i the new owner of the school. By the time Alice told him how he had sent the video to other schools in the area, how he had let them know Alice was "prone to pick up weird men" and have sexual encounters during class time, Hatter had set her (surprisingly calmly) to one side and gotten to his feet. "Right," he said, breathing fast and hard. "Right. I need to go now, Alice."

"Hatter, wait!" She was on her feet, albeit a bit unsteady, as he lurched for the door. "Don't do anything stupid!"

"I'm not," he promised, pulling his jacket on as he headed into the hallway. "Don, however, might."

"Hatter!" She watched as he vaulted the railing to land on the stairs and all but sprinted for the door of the complex. "Hatter…" The door slammed behind him. "You forgot your hat…"


	7. Chapter 7

Eight Days A Week Chapter Seven ("Sunday")

Disclaimers: I own nothing you recognize; the Carroll estate and SyFy own characters unless they are created from whole cloth in my weird little head. Trademarks, etc, are owned by their respective entitites. I make no profit from this work of fan fiction. Oh and it IS Rated M/NC-17 so if you can't or shouldn't read adult-rated things in your area, please go elsewhere and read something else. Thanks. Oh and once more, the phrase Wonderian(s) is ganked from a Psyche Company song called "Wonderland".

**Sunday**

Sunday was…nonexistent. Alice didn't care much, though. She hadn't heard from Hatter since he left her apartment the day before—he didn't answer his phone, the bar hadn't heard from him, even to call in sick of late for his shift, and Real David hadn't seen him. When Alice had gone by Hatter's shop-to-be, she found the young assistant standing outside, literally twiddling his thumbs, because the door was locked and lights were off. Carol had offered a suggestion, couched in concern, that Hatter may have left town, or be with another woman. "Men do that sometimes, Alice."

"Mother, seriously…"

Alice had resorted to hanging about the café nearest Hatter's apartment, keeping an eye on the building until the barista had asked if she was stalking someone. Wandering up and down the street outside his apartment held little appeal, so Alice sat on the floor outside his door until she convinced herself that she was being pathetic and gathered her things to head home. She made it as far as the head of the stairs when a door creaked open and a little old man stuck his head out like a near-sighted turtle. "You here for that David boy?"

"David Hatter?" Alice stopped in her tracks and tried not to let the niggle of fear in her belly grow into a full-fledged panic. "I'm his girlfriend. Have you seen him today?"

"Hmph. Noisy punk, smashing around like he was holding a WWE match in there. I have the right to evict him, you know!"

Something clicked in Alice's mind and she forced a smile. "Oh, Mister Nussbaum! Hatter—um, David—has told me iall/i about you." The building super was, according to Hatter, sorely in need of a dose of Happy, or possibly Shut The Hell Up. Alice had questioned if such a tea existed and Hatter merely shrugged. "If Oysters can feel it, Wonderians can drink it."

Mr. Nussbaum edged into the hallway, keeping one hand on his door as if he expected Alice to lunge for him and cause him to need to make a quick escape back into his inner sanctum. "You tell your little friend that I don't appreciate all that noise in the middle of the night, missy!" He paused and narrowed his eyes. "You're that girl I heard hollering in there last night?"

Alice felt as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over her head. "What?"

"Some girl, hollering up a storm in there like her hair was on fire or something!" He sniffed at her. "You smell clean, not like you just spent a night a-frolicking!"

"I assure you, Mr. Nussbaum, that my night was not spent a-frolicking. And Hatter—David—didn't have a girl in his apartment." After her initial shock, reason had brushed away the ice chips around Alice's stomach. i Hatter wouldn't cheat and I know better so snap out of it, Alice! /i The irritation lingered, though, and colored her next words. "And if you paid more attention to the building instead of the soap opera of tenants, maybe you wouldn't have black mold in the hallways and the water wouldn't run brown and red twice a week!" She turned on her heel and stomped towards the stairs. "My boyfriend doesn't have women in his apartment other than me!"

"I'm so glad I don't have to tell you that," Hatter's amused, familiar voice came from a few steps down. Alice gasped and nearly fell back onto her rear as she jerked around to face him. "What're you doing here, Alice?"

"I…I was worried." She moved backwards up the steps, conscious of the super watching as Hatter closed the distance between them. "Um, want to go inside?"

"Ah, no…Let's go for a drink, eh?"

"The tea shop?"

He grimaced. "I'm rather in the mood for something stronger." He waved at Mr. Nussbaum. "Sorry about the noise last night! It's…settled."

"I can still kick you out, you know!" he called as Hatter took Alice's hand and led her down the stairs. "Don't forget that, David Hatter!"

"What's he mean?"

"Oh, he threatens to kick me out once a week," Hatter laughed. "He thinks I'm some sort of thug." He paused and swung her up into a hard, quick kiss before setting her back on the sidewalk. "Now then—why the worry?"

"Why the something stronger?" she shot back. "Hatter, I was worried because…well, because of what happened yesterday."

It was a quick flicker at the edge of his expression, but Alice caught it. Anger, annoyance, reluctance. He forced a smile and tightened his grip on her hand. "No worries, ducks. I just had to, ah, get it out of my system. Everything is fine now." He tugged her towards a corner café. "I'm famished!"

Hatter's idea of 'something stronger' than tea turned out to be an industrial strength daiquiri. Apparently, in Wonderland, such drinks were not common. Alice supposed it had something to do with a lack of rum but Hatter had fallen in love with the frozen, brightly-colored drinks from the small restaurant down the street from his apartment. Alice stuck to ice tea as Hatter downed first a mango daiquiri, then a lemon-lime daiquiri. "Hatter," Alice tried again after his second drink and third sandwich, "I don't want to sound like a nagging girlfriend but I was worried. Where were you last night? And why did your super hear a woman screaming in your apartment?"

"Ah, watched a movie too loud," he said blithely. "That…what's it…you know, that one with a woman screaming."

Alice made a non-committal noise and decided to try another tact. "You didn't go down to the school and try to, oh, I don't know, make Don regret what he did, did you?"

Hatter sighed and pushed his plate to one side and took Alice's hands in his. "I promise you, my dearest Alice, my Alice of legend, that I did no such thing."

She narrowed her eyes, looking for some loophole in his words, but found none. "Promise?"

"I promise on my best hat that I did not go to the school or otherwise corner Don against his will and beat the pulp out of him." He crossed his heart for good measure. "Now, would you like some scones? This place has something called butterscotch…"

Hatter, pleasantly buzzed and more than a bit full of good food, was feeling more happy than not as Alice leaned on his arm, the pair of them making their way to her apartment. Her mom, she had informed him, would be gone this evening. A new boyfriend, Alice had added, looking only mildly upset. It was growing dark as they picked their way around gobs of tourists and the occasional busker, turning down the side street to the apartment house. "So are you still worried?"

She looked up at him and made a moue of deep thought before shrugging. "Yes but not as much… You ever going to tell me where you were?"

"Just home, watching movies." He smiled and, sweeping his hat from his head and plopping it atop hers in one smooth motion, leaned down and whispered, "You've been very…friendly this week."

"Takes two," she replied, breaking away from his grasp and darting up the apartment steps. She giggled, feeling unusually giddy as Hatter's footsteps sounded behind her. She knew that he could catch her if he wanted but he didn't, he let her get into the apartment before closing the distance between them, making her squeak in surprise as he grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her against him. "Hey!"

"Hey yourself," he replied, feeling—for the first time in days—at ease with Alice. iNow if I could get her underwear back to her without her noticing, life would be perfect… /i Alice pressed back against him and he growled into her hair. "What're you playing at, little Oyster?"

She turned and raised a brow at him. "Oyster now, am I? Am I supposed to be afraid of the big, bad Hatter?" She backed away a few steps, dropping her purse and reaching to unzip one boot as she hopped. "Little Alice, all alone in the apartment, at the mercy of Hatter…" She shed the other boot, tossing it towards the kitchen with a defiant thud. "Whatever shall I do?" she purred, finally reaching the sofa and stretching over the back, reaching for something on the sideboard just behind it. Pausing, she looked over her shoulder at Hatter. "Well?"

"Uh…oh…um…" He shook himself mentally. He felt a bit lightheaded as the blood rapidly moved southward from his head.

"I think," she said, kneeling on the sofa and shifting so she was half-draped across its back, "you're missing my point."

"No, I'm quite, ah, aware of it… I just seem to have lost feeling in me legs." He laughed somewhat shakily and forced himself to take a few steps forward. "What brought this on?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"I'm just having a bit of emotional whiplash, I think." He hesitated a moment longer, then took another step, closing the distance between them so that he could rest his hands on her shoulders, making her look up at him. "Alice, we do need to talk…"

"iNow?/i You pick inow/i to talk?"

"You didn't let me finish," he chided, pushing her back gently. "We do need to talk, but it can wait. I have something very important to tell you. Confess, more like."

She raised a brow. "Confess?"

"No, I didn't kill Don."

"Ah. Then it can't be that bad." She arched up against his grasp and gasped as he pressed her back, not letting her rise. "Hatter?"

He looked down at her with a heated gaze and made a quick choice. "Undress for me."

Alice felt her cheeks color almost instantly. They had undressed in front of each other before, in a manner of speaking. Quickly, in dimly lit rooms, a few times in full light, in sunlit spaces, in moon-silvered beds, but never slowly, never deliberately. Never, she thought, with Hatter looking at her like that. "Okay," she finally said, a bit breathlessly. She stood as he stepped back. "Um…" He sat in the armchair across from her, resting his hands on his knees, looking up at her with hooded eyes and a half-smile as she stood, uncertainly.

"I'm not going to bite you, you know. Not unless you ask."

His tone—slightly rough, a bit fevered—made her shiver. "I just don't know where to begin."

"Outerwear first, I'd say," he smiled. "Work your way down."

She took a deep breath and had a stern word with her self-esteem. i Just because you've never done this before doesn't mean no one has never wanted you to. Hatter is the first—and maybe the last—to ask and he's the only one you'd even think of doing this for… /i Exhaling slowly, she closed her eyes and reached for the zipper on the back of her dress.

Hatter felt a twinge of apprehension—Alice looked very nervous and he didn't want her to be upset, or not enjoy this… He opened his mouth to say stop, to tell her never mind, he was being silly, but she reached for her zipper and slowly, so slowly that the grate of the metal teeth was like thunder in the quiet room, she tugged it down and let the dress slide off her shoulders. She opened her eyes then and found his gaze, her blush fading just a bit, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. He felt his stomach clench in anticipation, his fingers tightening on his knees to keep from reaching out and just grabbing her. iAct like the adult you are, Hatter, /i he scolded himself. i Think of cream cakes and tea. Think of Mad March. Think of sodding paint drying on the sodding walls! Behave! /i Alice swayed slightly side to side, as if she were moving to some music only she could hear, and Hatter felt his mouth go dry. She stepped back, just out of arm's reach, and let her dress fall around her waist. Hatter said a silent prayer of appreciation and thanks to whichever deities invented red lace bras and breasts, especially whoever had been in charge of Alice. He could barely see the edge of dark pink aereole through the sheer, lacy bra and that, he decided, was more tormenting than seeing her completely bare.

Her hands moved over her arms, rubbing gently as if cold, before skimming across her stomach, fingers splayed as they moved over the very slight swell of belly, curve of muscle and strength. She shifted, raising one foot just enough to point her toe, and reached down, tracing her fingers up her calf. "Is this how you want me to do it, Hatter?" she asked softly. "Take everything off like this?"

He nodded, uncertain if she even saw him. She was humming a husky, soft tune under her breath as she slowly caressed her calf, then her thigh, just to the spot where her skirt stopped. For an eternity, for a few breathless seconds, her fingers lingered there, at the very edge of her black and white striped long socks, made oddly sex by virtue of being on her legs. Hatter waited, feeling as if time had stopped until she slid one finger under the ribbing and pushed the sock down, past her knee, over her calf, onto the floor. She raised a brow at him and he could not help but smile back, feeling like some twisted version of a boy in a candy shop as Alice—his Alice of legend—stripped before him. She moved to her other leg, this time not teasing so much as prolonging the gestures, taking the stocking off so slowly he was sure she'd fall over before she had gotten it past her toes. She took the stocking and tossed it to him, turning away as she reached for the clasp on her bra. "No," she ordered when he shifted. "You asked me to do this, so I'm doing it. You," she paused to unfasten the hooks, "get to watch." Her bra came off and was tossed over her shoulder, leaving her bare back for his gaze to feast upon.

Hatter thought he could lose himself in the constellation of freckles across her shoulders, fall forever along the pale lines of summers' past criss-crossing her back. She was golden cream and spun-sugar delicacy, warm autumn sliding into cold winter. i If she tells me she loves me again, if she really means it, I may expire on the spot from sheer luckiness. /i Her hands moved to her hips and pushed at her dress, giving a slight shimmy as the fabric slid downward. Hatter thought his heart stopped as she stood there, naked as the day she was born, her dark hair pushed over her shoulders, her bare skin exposed for his gaze to dwell upon and revere. She turned before he could ask her to, her hands covering her breasts momentarily before she took a visible breath and let her fingers move down her belly to her sides. "Now what?" she asked huskily.

"Alice—"

"ALICE!"

"Mom!"

A/N Next chapter is the last one in this fic… but I have plaaaaaaaans for more Hatter/Alice-ness *cackles*


	8. Chapter 8

Eight Days A Week, Chapter Eight (Monday…Again)

Disclaimers Apply

b Monday /b

Mondays sucked, Alice decided. She had left early, before her mother was even awake, and headed for Hatter's apartment. Seeing no light on from the street, she waited at the coffee shop across the way until the sun was well up and people were thronging to the bus stops and subway stations like lemmings. The light in Hatter's bedroom was still not coming on and she had not seen him leave the building, so she paid for her half-drunk coffee and left, jogging across the street with a half-smile on her lips. The fight with her mother the night before had been just the push she needed, Alice decided, to grow up. She barely noticed as she flew up the stairs to his apartment, intent on just one thing: Hatter. The door was ajar, she noticed, slowing her steps. iThat's not normal… /i"Hatter, are you in there?" Alice pushed the apartment door open and froze in her tracks. The living room was, in a word, decimated. Bits of wooden chair legs and coffee table lay in piles as if someone had tried to sweep them up and grown bored halfway through the task. The sofa cushions were torn as if by a knife or other sharp object, bits of fluff scattered around the room like so much snowfall. "Holy Hell," Alice muttered, taking one halting step, then another. "Hatter? Hatter, please answer me!" No response. Heart hammering in her breast, she dropped her purse and backpack and forced herself to move further into the apartment. The living room was a shambles and the kitchen—the kitchen made her already hammering heart speed up to the point where she was short of breath. All of his teapots, she saw, were broken, colorful porcelain and glass like dangerous confetti on every surface, bent metal and crushed plastic like sad little planets in the scattered constellations of the broken vessels. i Something bad, something very very bad…/i She swallowed hard against the painful, dry feeling in her mouth and throat. "Hatter!"

"He ain't here."

She turned, clutching at her heart in panic at the new voice. "Mr. Nussbaum! Where is he? Is he okay?"

"No idea. Came in, stomping about last night. More hollerin' around midnight and," he paused, shrugging. "Ain't here this morning." His eyes grew wide beneath the shaggy dark brows as he looked around the apartment. "This place is a mess!"

"When was the last time you saw him? Or heard him?" she asked, heading off further commentary of the noise at the pass.

"Like I said, round midnight." He huffed under his breath and turned from Alice. "If he comes back 'fore I do, tell him he's evicted. Too many complaints."

Alice had the distinct feeling that the complaints were all Mr. Nussbaum's, but she didn't reply as the super shut the door behind him and left her in the middle of the ruins. She stood still for a long moment, her brain threatening to go haywire with panic, then lurched into action. She raced for her purse and snapped her phone out of the side pocket, dialing 911 before she could even think of it; the phone rang twice then an operator answered, sounding bored and efficient at the same time. "Hello? Yes, I'm at my boyfriend's apartment and it looks like there's been a break in or something, and he's not here and the building super said he'd heart a lot of shouting last night… And earlier yesterday, too, in fact." The operator asked for the address and Alice replied automatically, heading for Hatter's bedroom. That room, at least, looked untouched. The bed was made, a jacket and hat lay on the covers as if he had started to undress then got distracted. On autopilot, she hung up with the operator, promising to wait until the police arrived before touching anything. iPlease be okay, please be okay, please be okay… /i

Hatter patted his jacket pocket idly, almost without realizing that he was doing it. The well-taped box containing Alice's dainties was secure, an odd and comforting weight in his pocket. He rocked back on his heels, waiting for Alice, trying to ignore the niggling feeling that something was amiss. It was eight in the morning—her mother should already be at work, he reasoned, which meant Alice was home alone. i Not for long, /i he thought, grinning to himself. Raising his fist to knock again, he nearly fell back onto his rear as Carol flung open the door and fixed him with a glare that would have put the Queen of Hearts in her place. "Where is she?" she hissed. "What have you two brewed up between the two of you?"

"I…what?" He shook himself as if he could make the words sensible. "What do you mean, 'where is she'?"

"You speak English! Where is she?"

"I speak Wonderian," he replied tartly. "It just happens to isound/i like English! And I have no idea what you're talking about! I thought she was here!"

"Well, she's not! I've been in the kitchen since seven thirty and she's not here! I've checked her room, I've checked the bathroom, called the school, called the college…"

Hatter winced—he was sure Alice would love finding out that last bit especially. "I haven't seen her since…well, since yesterday evening, Mrs. Hamilton. When you, ah, escorted me into the hall." i Threw me, escorted me, threatened me with a butcher knife…whichever. It all works out to the same end. /i

Carol pressed her lips into a thin line, holding back whatever else she was about to hurl at Hatter. She turned and strode back into the apartment, leaving him waiting in the doorway until she shot back over her shoulder, "Well?"

"Ah, well, if she's not here, I'll just be going then. Long day at work." He smiled blandly and backed out of the apartment. "If she stops by, tell her I said hello."

"You said hello! That's it? After what I saw yesterday, you'd better have a lot more to say to her than just hello!"

Hatter hurried down the stairs, away from the brewing storm of maternal rage, and hit the street running. If Alice wasn't at the school, wasn't at the college, then he had a very good idea of where she would be and he hoped he beat her there—or at least got there before she jumped to the wrong conclusion.

Alice pressed her face against her knees and took several deep breaths. The police officers had not been of much help, reminding her repeatedly that, since Hatter was an adult, he had to be missing twenty four hours before a missing persons report could be filed. iUnderstand my concern, my ass! You just wanted to go on your damned coffee break! /i Mr. Nussbaum shouting from his doorway that Hatter was evicted didn't help matters; in fact, it made them worse. One of the officers had suggested that perhaps Hatter had "gone back where he came from" and the other seconded, Mr. Nussbaum thirded, and Alice protested though deep inside, part of her wondered if maybe he had. iIt would just be ironic, wouldn't it? All this time, running from guys, and finally one runs from me. No, stop it, Alice Hamilton! You know he wouldn't do that! Not of his own free will… Oh, god damn it. What if it wasn't his own free will? /i She could taste the coppery panic rising in her throat as she shoved herself to her feet, ignoring the prickles of broken wood sticking to her palms and legs from Hatter's floor. She stuffed the officer's card into her purse, promptly forgetting it was even there as she took another turn about the apartment. "What happened in here," she murmured aloud. "Oh, Hatter, please don't have done something stupid."

"You still here?"

"Yesssssssssss, Mr. Nussbaum." She turned to face the building super and something of her anger and annoyance must have shown in her expression; he stepped back, out of the doorway and into the hall, his eyes going wide at the sight of her. "How can I help you?"

"Just make sure he cleans this shit up or I'm charging him for labor!"

"You use his security deposit for the clean up costs," she snapped. "God knows you charged enough for it! And I swear to whatever power you believe in, Nussbaum, that I iwill/i find you and take the money out of your sorry hide!" She felt a grim satisfaction as he eased back into his apartment and shut the door between them, leaving her alone in Hatter's ruined place. Her anger seeped out slowly, leaving a quivering path through her limbs as she picked her way over to the pottery-littered kitchen and stood by the table, eyeing the mess. "Oh, Hatter…"

"Oh, Alice," he panted, lurching into the apartment doorway. "Thank…spades…Long…Good gods, why don't buses run on time?" He slid to the floor, clutching at his heart and took several gulping breaths. "Water?"

Alice blinked, frozen in place by the sight of him, sweaty and mussed, sitting on the floor. "Hatter?"

"Uh huh," he gasped. "Water?"

"You have no cups," Alice managed, her voice shaking as she took several steps towards him. "Hatter…"

"Just…a mo'," he breathed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the open door. "Hoped to get here before you did," he added, his breathing slowly coming back under control. "Whew, I'm out of shape now," he continued, opening one eye to peer up at her. "Alice, what's the matter?"

"What's the matter? iWhat's the matter?/i Hatter, your apartment looks like it's been destroyed, you weren't here, I called the cops but thank the powers that be that they refused to look for you since you just showed up! I threatened your super, you know! He's kicking you out!"

"Figured as much," Hatter mumbled, shoving himself to his feet. "Wait, you're glad the cops didn't look for me?"

"I am now! We'd have had to go explain everything to them and…well, I'm still waiting for you to explain it to me." She felt empty and shaken, at once betrayed and embarrassed. She knew she had overreacted and wondered at herself for it; if it had been Jack, she thought, she would have done the same thing. i I think. /i What was it about Hatter, she thought, that made her feel so protective? i It's not like he can't take care of himself… I can just do it better. /i "Start with when my mom kicked you out last night."

Hatter nodded, staggering towards the kitchen sink, crunching through broken wood and pottery to reach water. After several draughts from his cupped hands, he finally felt enough himself to face Alice. "I came home last night. Alone. I…I had to gather some things of yours which needed returning and…well, I was trying to think of a way to explain it when Don showed up."

"b What?/b How did he even know where you live, Hatter? Oh, god, what did you do to him?"

He smiled wryly, self-consciously. "I'm touched by your faith in my martial prowess, love, but I did nothing to him. Well, nothing at first. I just defended myself. And he knew where I lived because he'd followed me from your place." At Alice's incredulous expression, he sighed and held out his hands in a gesture of supplication. "I'm telling you the honest truth, Alice. As if there could be another kind… I swear on my hats and teapots that Don followed me home. He wanted to scare you into going along with his notions and thought that maybe scaring me off would help things out."

Alice shook her head and leaned against the counter, her mind going a mile a minute. "And you beat him up?"

"I idefended/i myself."

"Then what happened to the furniture? And your pots?"

"He, ah, didn't take kindly to my refusal to comply with his demands that I leave you alone and the idea that you and him had a thing going already." He smiled bitterly. "And my refusal to be blackmailed."

Alice flung up her hands. "Stop. I don't want to hear anymore. Good god, Hatter…What are we going to do?"  
"Nothing. Well, not much. I'll get my things and find another place to stay if Nussbaum is serious about kicking me out."

"My mother seems to think I'm twelve," Alice said after a brief silence. "I came over here so early because I wanted to see you and tell you about what happened after she threw you out last night."

"Ah…"

"Ah," she mimicked, annoyance quickly replacing fear. "I had to discuss my sex life with my mother! Correction, ishe/i discussed it, I ran and hid in my bedroom! She thinks I should go on the Pill! I didn't have the heart to tell her that I've been on it since sixteen."

"The what now?"

"Oh, I'll explain it later!" she cried, exasperated. "I'm twenty-two years old and she's treating me like I'm a kid! And now ithis/i-"

"This what?" He closed the distance between them in two steps, effectively cornering her. He could see the silvery edge of tears in her eyes and the sight twisted something deep inside him. i No one has ever cried because of me! Well, not in a good way. Is this a good way? Oh, bollocks. /i "Alice, let's take a nice, deep breath, shall we? I'm fine, you're…well, you're fine, all things considered. I need to find somewhere to live, you need to make it up with your mum…"

"Just like that, huh?" she sighed. "You think it all heals up in a snap."  
"What's the use of letting it fester?" he asked quietly, reaching out to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger. "This isn't Wonderland. I don't have to look over my shoulder all the time. You aren't running for your life. Don is a stupid, stupid slime mold masquerading as a man and he tried to do something, well, stupid. He's not going to try again. You can find another job, I can find another place, and the world will keep on spinning. Or whatever it is this world does. Wonderland spins…a lot."

Alice laughed somewhat thickly, tears clogging her throat. "Just when I think things are fine, all Hell breaks lose. My mom not liking you, treating me like I'm a kid, me freaking out and just being generally embarrassing. Don! Oh, for fuck's sake, Don's antics!" She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, calming herself as best she could, pressing her face against Hatter's palm. It felt wonderful, she thought, to have someone strong, physically and otherwise. It felt wonderful to know he was there, he wasn't demanding anything from her, not asking questions she couldn't or wouldn't answer. And it didn't hurt, she thought, that he smelled ireally/i good… "I wonder if Don got into my apartment," she suddenly asked. "I'm missing underwear."

"Oh, bloody spades," Hatter groaned, dropping his hand.

"I mean, it's possible I've just misplaced them but they vanished after I wore them and before the laundry went into the wash and—why are you laughing?"

"This is difficult for me to say," he managed, his cheeks bright pink with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. "Um, let's sit down."

"Where?"

"Good question…" He looked around, shrugged and sank to the floor, lotus-style. "Here is as good a place as any."

Alice hesitated, then shrugged herself, sinking down across from him. "What's so funny?"

"I have something to tell you, and you may get mad at me for this…"

Alice's cheeks hurt from laughing so hard. It was nearly dusk and they were still sitting on his kitchen floor, now with Chinese take-away between them. "So, just to reiterate…you kept my panties?"

Hatter stared into his carton of fried rice and nodded miserably. "I don't know what came over me."

"What if I told you I thought it was kind of hot?"

"I can open a window…"

"No, that it, well, you know, kind of turned me on that you did that."

He chanced a peek. "What?"

She sighed and stabbed at a piece of chicken with a chopstick. "It's not like I sat there and thought 'hey, you know what would really get my motor running? Hatter keeping my panties. I should ask him to do it!' I mean, I just figured it out now that I find it a bit arousing that you were, ah, moved to keep my underthings after our encounters."

"Ah." He resumed poking at his rice. "Do you want them back?" He forced himself not to look up as Alice set aside her food and pushed the cartons between them to one side. She knee-walked to him and took his rice away, setting it just out of reach before straddling his lap. "Is that a no?"

"That is an emphatic no," she replied, her voice edging on a purr. She twisted her fingers into his longish hair and tilted his head back so he could look her in the eye. "What should we do about the apartment?"

"We?" he breathed, feeling her breasts against him, her breath tickling him as she leaned in close. "I was just going to stay for the night and see about finding a new place tomorrow."

"Move in with me," she said, then paused, her face showing definite surprise. "Yes," she said slowly. "Yeah, let's move in together."

"Alice…Alice, are you sure?" His heart did a funny little dance in his chest and he grabbed her hips, moving her off his lap as he rose to his knees as well. "It's a lot. I mean, I've never lived with a girl but even I know that it's a lot…"

"A lot what?"

"A lot! I mean…what if things don't work out?"

"I love you," she said, her eyes closing as she spoke the words. "I really, truly, love you. All I want is for you to be happy and safe and…well, if this won't make you happy or safe, we wont' do it."

He sat back on his heels, thinking furiously. He wanted it, oh how he wanted it. He had fantasized about being with Alice since soon after he met her, the imaginings going from simple, lustful daydreams to far more detailed and complex fantasies, usually involving scenarios which he knew would never happen, not even in Wonderland, but always ended with her in his arms, wrapped around him, his and only his. But he knew enough about reality on both sides of the Looking Glass to know it wouldn't be a soft-blurred fantasy. "We'll fight."

"And I'll yell."

"So will I."

"I'll storm out sometimes."

"I'll beg you to come back."

"I'll threaten to leave at least once."

"And I'll believe you."

"But we'd be happy, too, I think." She looked around the ruined place and sighed. "I don't have a job."

"I have two."

"My mom will have kittens about this."

"…what?"

"She'll have a fit."

"You're an adult. Trust me, I've checked."

She snorted inelegantly. "It won't always be great sex and stolen panties, you know."

"So long as you know it, too."

"You haven't seen me PMSing yet."

"PMSing? Is that some sort of exercise?"

"Well, it does involve muscle cramps but no…" She sighed again. "Hatter, this week has been absolute chaos."

"It almost made me miss Wonderland."

"Did you think about going back?"

He leaned forward then and pulled her back against him. "Not without you, Alice of Legend."

She smiled. "Want to go back to my place and break the news to my mom?"

"Wonderland is sounding better all of a sudden…"

"Hatter!"

"We'll go, I promise," he laughed, falling back on the floor and taking her down with him, "but not just yet."


	9. Chapter 9

Eight Days A Week: Outtake

Disclaimers: I own nothing that you recognize. People with lawyers and money do. This is purely a work of fan fiction and written for jollies, not money or whatnot.

A/N: lj-user=klcthebookworm suggested an outtake between Don and Hatter so…voila! It's not terribly long but it amused me, lol.

Hatter pressed the heels of his hands against his aching eyes. It was nearly midnight and he was exhausted, which surprised him. i I must be getting old in Oyster-world… I could stay up long past this in Wonderland. Maybe it's not just the days that move differently here—maybe it's the hours too!/i He taped the last corner of the box together and grabbed for a pen, scrawling Alice's name across the blank, brown surface. "How the Hell do you give a girl back her panties?"

"Hey! Open the door, god damn it!"

Hatter started, his mood instantly going from amused and confused to defensive anger. Tucking the box into the empty bread-keeper, he padded on bare feet to the door. Peering through the peephole, he saw a vaguely familiar face. "What is it?"

"Open the door! Gotta talk to you!"

"No." He stepped back and glanced around. He had no handy weapons, not even the long, slim bat he kept handy in the tea shop back home. He hadn't thought to bring it to this world nor had he thought to get a replacement. "Bugger off or I'll call the rozzers!"

"Fuck this," came the voice from the other side of the door and, in the second following it, a splintering impact which sent the door itself flying open and bits of broken wood thudding to the floor. "You're Alice's fucktoy, yeah?"

Hatter had meant to keep the fight out of the kitchen. He had meant to keep it out of the apartment. But the man—Don, he remembered—didn't give him the time. Nor did Hatter particularly feel inclined towards gentlemanly behavior once the intruder's name and face clicked into place. In the space it took Don to break down the door and grab him by the lapels on his vest, Hatter had taken up the first thing within reach—a rather ugly vase he and Alice had found at a place she called Salvation Army -i If that's what kit the Oyster army carries, Wonderland need never worry about invasion,/i he recalled thinking just before he swung the vase at Don's head. Hatter had experienced rage before, many times. Rage, anger, fright, self-defensiveness, but never anything like this. The words that had spewed out of Don's mouth about Alice, about seeing her on that tape, about…Well, Hatter sighed inwardly as one of his favorite teapots came sailing at his head, it was enough to make him do the unthinkable. Don looked surprised, to say the least, as a stack of saucers was hurled rapid-fire like clay pigeons in his direction, driving him back into the corner of the kitchen. Hatter shouted in outrage as a tea pot that Alice gave him shattered against a cabinet as Don attempted self-defense. "Right," he snarled. "That does it. iThat/i was a gift. A very special gift." He grabbed the nearest thing at-hand, a cast-iron skillet, and brandished it like a club. "You do not break a man's very special gift from his girlfriend!"

"Pussy," Don snarled.

Hatter paused a fraction of a second, wondering if this was an Oyster idiom or if Don was actually calling him a cat, then swung for all his worth at Don's midsection. The howl of pain which resulted was viscerally satisfying. Hatter didn't put down the skillet as Don straightened and reached for another teapot. "Come on," he taunted. "What kind of man fights with crockery?"

"What kind of man fights with cookware?" The teapot hit Hatter square in the chest. "What kind of man even ihas/i teapots? Just proves my point—you're Alice's fucktoy and she's your beard!"

"I really have no idea what you're on about," Hatter sighed, swinging the skillet again. Don grabbed it away but Hatter didn't care. His right fist connected with Don's jaw a moment later. Another satisfying howl, this one a bit muffled. "Keep breaking the teapots if you want me to keep breaking bones!"

Hatter surveyed the destruction of his apartment as Don lumbered out the door, clutching his jaw and cursing in pain. At last count, Hatter figured he had broken six bones in the man, three of them ribs, one his collar bone, one his jaw and one in his left arm. The debris of teapots, tea cups and furniture was depressing, and his hand hurt. He could hear Mr. Nussbaum shouting up at him from his doorway but Hatter didn't care. He needed a broom, a nap, and to see Alice, unfortunately in that order.


End file.
